A Melody of Reformation
by SolarRose29
Summary: When Susan disagrees with one of Peter's decisions, it takes nearly losing him for both of them to learn an important lesson.


_set a few years into their reign so their language is a mix of formal and casual. i prefer movie verse but choose ages according to your own preference :)_

Trails of emerald green fabric whispered down the front of her dress as Susan crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.

"I see you've decided to go."

She was vindictively pleased that her voice startled Peter. He jumped in his seat, quill scratching a jagged line of ink across the page he was writing. With a frown, he set the quill in the inkwell.

"I told you I would." He leaned back in his chair, resigned to the impending fight.

"And I told you that you should not," she reminded, coming into the room but making no move to sit in the chair he gestured for her to use.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Susan, we've already talked the matter through. Please, don't argue with me further."

"Oh. So now it's an argument." She feigned surprise. "And here I was thinking we were having a friendly dialogue because, as I recall it, you said you welcomed advice from your fellow rulers." A slender finger tapped at her chin in a mocking parody of deep thought.

Peter shook his head. "The matter is closed." He reached for his quill, only to have Susan move it out of his way. Glancing up, he found himself staring into hard gems that had replaced his sister's customarily gentle eyes.

"Peter, if you do this, you are condemning many innocents to their deaths."

"I do this to prevent further bloodshed."

"Further bloodshed?" Susan scoffed. "You purpose to ride to battle. Tell me where is the peace in that."

Peter's face darkened. "I do not delight in war."

"Your conduct speaks otherwise, brother." Her accusation had Peter on his feet in an instant but she wasn't finished. "Ever since we first stepped foot in this our beloved land, you have done little else save wield that blade!" She threw out a hand to gesture where Rhindon was strapped to Peter's belt. "You claim to fight in the name of peace and restoration yet you ignore other means of achieving those same causes."

"There is no other way!" Peter's face was flushed now, his rising temper heating his cheeks.

"If you would but heed my counsel and let messengers be sent-"

Peter slammed his palm against the top of his desk. "There is no time!"

"Your impatience will be your undoing," Susan snapped.

"They will not listen. We have sent Birds to them, first with an offering of mediation and then with a warning. Neither were heeded. The longer we delay in remedying the situation, the more threat they pose to our land and our people. I can not sit by idle and allow these marauders-"

Susan interrupted him, voice hard as metal. "Are they deserving of death?"

"They have proven they are unwilling to abide by our laws and are harassing our fair Cousins-"

"Are they deserving of death?" Susan repeated, her expression one of calculated fury.

Peter squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. "I will not risk the lives of my people. Tomorrow, I ride for Glasswater. There, I shall do what must be done."

"I fear what your bloodlust shall bring upon us," Susan hissed, sweeping out of the room before he could reply. As she stormed down the corridor, she could just hear the sound of an inkwell shattering against the far wall of Peter's study.

* * *

The face in the mirror met her gaze stonily as Susan passed the brush listlessly through her ever lengthening hair. Having failed to persuade Peter to her side of the issue, her mood had only darkened as the day progressed. Peter always chose violence. It was a pattern that upset Susan, bubbled like spoiled milk in her stomach. Her nature was far more inclined to diplomacy, some deep rooted and long forgotten reason causing her to hate warfare. If only he would listen to her! He often asked her opinion on matters of state, seeking her advice above all others. Frequently would he praise her counsel. But only when it suited him. As her thoughts spiraled further, so her brush strokes gained strength until she pulled too hard and the hairbrush hit the edge of her vanity with a definitive jolt, chipping the beautifully carved wood of the handle. As she examined the damage, a knock sounded on her door. Sullen as she was, Susan didn't reply. It was probably her handmaid, ready to help her prepare for bed. Without her permission, the door creaked open. The sharp reprimand died on the tip of her tongue when she spun around on her chair only to find Lucy slipping into the room on light feet. Her younger sister carried a tray with her, upon which was a sample of the evening meal.

"You weren't at dinner so I thought I might bring you some," Lucy explained, hovering by the door without fully entering the chamber.

With a sigh, Susan waved her forward. "Thank you but I'm not hungry."

Lucy set the tray on a nearby table. "You must eat something. I brought some fruit and-"

"I said I wasn't hungry," Susan snapped. At Lucy's injured expression, she relented. "But you may leave the tray. I may have something later." She turned back to her mirror dismissively, passing the brush through her hair as a distraction.

But Lucy wasn't deterred. She simply came up behind her and took the brush away, exchanging it for a length of ribbon. Then she set to plaiting Susan's hair with deft fingers.

"What are you doing?" Susan asked, puzzled.

"Your nightly braids."

"I meant why."

Lucy shrugged and allowed a beat of silence before speaking. "Peter wasn't at dinner either."

Susan attempted to turn her head away but Lucy halted the motion, unwilling to lose her place in the braid. "Did you two have another argument?"

"It's none of your business," Susan replied curtly.

"Was it about him going to Glasswater?"

When she wanted to be, Susan could be more stubborn than a minotaur with a head cold so she kept silent.

"He is right, you know." Lucy's fingers slowed, her eyes seeking Susan's in the mirror. "We can't allow the dwarves to continue as they are."

"You're on his side. As usual," Susan snorted.

"Susan…"

"I just wish he would consider other paths to peace." Susan spread her hands. "He leaps to defend Narnia with his sword while I believe her to be better served with words."

Lucy shook her head. "Dwarves aren't the talkative type. Besides, they've already proved to be of ill intent, what with raiding those poor villages and burning the crops."

"But they haven't killed anyone yet!" Susan insisted. "So how can it be just to deliver that fate upon their heads?"

The braids were finished. Lucy tied off the ribbon. "All I know is that they have no respect for Narnia or her people, while Peter seeks only her greatest good." She leaned forward and, placing her cheek next to Susan's, made a quick kiss into the mirror. "Good night." She went to the door and as she left left, she called back, "Trust him. And trust the Lion!"

* * *

Huffing in annoyance, Susan threw the door open. "For the last time, Brione, I do not require your services - oh." Rather than her flustered handmaid, Susan discovered the person on the other side of the door to be Edmund.

The young king quirked an eyebrow at her. "It is fortunate indeed then, as I am in no position to render services of any kind."

"Sorry." Susan stepped aside to allow him entry.

He wandered into the room at a casual pace, but those who knew him could see how his eyes constantly flickered about his surroundings, noting and cataloging everything in that brilliant mind of his.

"I would have thought you to be elsewhere this morning," Susan said.

Edmund swiped an apple off the untouched tray from the night before. "You mean you presumed me to be with Peter."

"Well, yes. Isn't that always where you are? At his side like a second shadow? Or an eager puppy?" When he purposefully bit into his fruit instead of replying, Susan had the decency to blush. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

"'S alright," he muttered around the mouthful of apple, circling the room until he came to her vanity. When he reached it, he straddled the chair and waited. He didn't have to wait long.

"But don't you ever get tired of it? Of being treated as less important than him? Because of course, King Peter the Magnificent can never be wrong. His word is law. And no one else dares to speak against him. Once he's made up his mind, there is no changing it." Edmund munched quietly as she ranted. "He asks for counsel, yet refuses to listen. He sees only one path when there are many open to him. Why must he always pick the way that leads to war?" Finally airing her distress, she turned to Edmund. "Why does he love battle so?"

He stood, meeting her gaze steadily. "Do not confuse his courage to fight with an enjoyment of it."

"If he does not love it, then why does he rush into it?" Susan murmured.

"He believes it to be the course of action that best fulfills his Lion-given duty."

Susan tilted her head. "Do you believe him to be right in this matter?"

"You refer to Glasswater and the dwarves?" At her nod, Edmund pursed his lips. "No."

Susan blinked in surprise. "Then how can you support him in it?"

"Because he is my king." There was no waver in his voice.

"Four thrones hath Cair Paravel," she reminded.

The corner of his lip drifted upward. "And yet, Aslan named him High King above all others."

Susan's brow furrowed. "Surely that cannot mean we must obey him when our convictions tell us otherwise."

"It is a difficult matter," he sighed.

"Edmund, these dwarves, though their conduct has been hostile, have not killed any of our people. How then are we to allow the killing of theirs?" Susan questioned.

He did not answer.

"How is it just to punish them for crimes they have not committed?" she pressed.

"Our laws prohibit the trespassing of another's land, and most certainly forbid the razing of fields as these dwarves are wont to do. We have sent them messages of both mediation and warning, which they have ignored. Peter thus believes them to be a threat to our people and he seeks to put an end to their marauding and violence," Edmund responded carefully.

"With more violence?" Susan shook her head. "They are not beyond hope. May we not reason with them?"

"Peter has tried. You are not giving him credit for that which he has already done," Edmund pointed out.

"You sound as though you are taking his side. I would have thought you of all people could understand my point of view," she grumbled.

Through the open window in Susan's bedchamber, a blowing horn and the noise of gathering troops became audible.

"The thought of future combat…it sickens me," she confessed. She sought Edmund's eyes. "Do you not feel the same? Should we not put an end to this madness?"

Edmund's jaw tightened. "It matters not how I feel. Peter is my king and as such, I will give him the fealty owed him."

"By his own kin?" Susan arched a brow.

"It is our loyalty he relies upon the most." Edmund's face turned grave. "If we do not support him, how can we expect the people to?"

Susan frowned. "You think me wrong to have questioned him in court."

"Yes. I would rather we discuss our differences in private than to air them to the entire assembly," he stated.

"But he will not listen in private either." She threw up her hands.

"Then his mind has been made," he said.

A second horn blew and Edmund went for the door.

"I'm not coming," Susan blurted as he passed.

He paused.

"I cannot give this crusade my blessing," she said. "I won't."

He looked over his shoulder, expression hard. "He is your king."

The bang of the door closing behind him rattled Susan's heart where it lay conflicted in her chest.

* * *

Brilliant sunlight poured through the window, flooding the room with cheerful yellow. Susan squinted in the light, raising a hand to shield her eyes. Beside her, Birchtone hummed in appreciation of the warmth. The Dryad was unparalleled in her management of the castle and Susan was grateful to have her assistance as she sought to repurpose some of the underused portions of Cair Paravel.

"Perhaps if we put some tables in this one," Susan began, surveying the available space.

"With a bookcase against that wall," Birchtone added.

Susan nodded eagerly. "Yes, I think that would do quite nicely."

Stomping feet and shouting echoed through the hallway behind them. The two looked at each other.

"And then if-" Susan tried to resume their discussion but the commotion outside was only growing. "Lion's mane, what is all the ruckus?" She walked back to the arched doorway and peered into the corridor beyond. Servants of every station and nobles of all sorts were running, scampering, and bounding as their species dictated. Susan drew back in surprise.

"What is it, your majesty?" Birchtone asked, joining her.

"I don't know." Susan stepped forward and intercepted a passing faun. "What's the matter?"

The faun bobbed his head nervously. "It's the company from Glasswater, your highness. They've returned."

"So soon?" Birchtone said. "It hasn't been but three days since they departed."

"Perhaps matters were not as they seemed," Susan muttered. After thanking the faun, who trotted off in a hurry, the queen went in the same direction but at a more respectable pace. If it was as she suspected and the reason for the swift return of the company was because they were unnecessary, she was going to relish the chance to remind Peter how he had been wrong and she was right.

"Susan!" Lucy's voice rose above the general commotion made by the Animals and Beasts.

Susan searched the crowd for her sister. "Lucy!"

"Susan!" Lucy fought against the crowd, pushing her way backward. "Susan, you'd better come quickly." So saying, she gripped Susan's hand and they plunged into the thickest part of the mob, gathered by the southern gate. "Step aside!" Lucy hollered. "Please," she added afterwards.

Those in their way moved to let the queens through and Susan was soon standing beside a grave faced Edmund. In front of him, was the battered remains of the troop that had ridden with Peter to Glasswater. A limping Bear, two Leopards with blood matted fur, three satyrs with various injuries, one of whom held the reigns to Peter's horse, and one leaning heavily on the other.

Susan gasped at the state of them. "What has happened?"

The satyr with the reigns, Trof, turned to her. "It is as I have told your royal brother. We were ambushed by night."

Behind him, the female Leopard hissed and growled. "Those cursed dwarves had no honor."

"And they were not working alone either," Trof added grimly. "Your majesties, they had employed giants to assist them in their plot."

"Giants?" Susan repeated weakly.

"And what of my brother? Where is Peter?" Edmund asked impatiently.

Trof hung his head, ashamed. "We know not what befell the High King."

Edmund's eyes blazed and his hands tightened to fists at his side. "Send for Philip."

"My lord?" A nearby Rabbit queried.

"Send for Philip at once," Edmund commanded in such a tone that the Rabbit's nose twitched with fear as she leaped to obey. "Trof, tell me everything."

"We set off from Cair Paravel on that first morning, traveled swiftly and found a place to camp at dusk. There we ate and after appointing watches, we went to sleep. But those cowardly dwarves attacked in the dark. They shot Hoofweed," Trof reported.

It was only then that Susan realized the stout Boar was not among the others and she felt a pang at both his passing and that she had not noticed sooner.

"If it had not been for King Peter's vigilance, they might have killed us all in our sleep. But his highness was woken by their first villainous act and so was able to rouse us in time. The dwarves came out of the shadows and we dealt with them easily. When our victory seemed so sure, one of the last of them drew a trumpet from his belt and blew thrice upon it. He was signalling the giants. Two of them there were, and armed with great clubs. As we fought with them, the fire was extinguished and we could not see friend from foe. It was then that King Peter called a retreat." Trof hung his head even further. "We ran. It was only when dawn came that we realized his highness was not with us. But with our injuries, what could we do? We came here straight away that a search party might be sent forth."

"You did well to return, Trof," Lucy said, stepping forward to place a compassionate hand on his hairy arm.

"King Edmund!" Philip came trotting up to them.

"Philip, we must go and find my brother." So saying, Edmund swung himself up into the prepared saddle.

Susan made a noise of protest. "Edmund, no! You can't go alone!"

"Yes, let me at least come too," Lucy insisted.

"No, Lucy. You must stay here and tend to their wounds." He nodded at the soldiers, even as he guided Philip to the gate.

Susan marched after him. "Edmund, stop. We must organize a rescue."

"Do as you see fit. Send the swiftest riders and the best trackers of our army to follow. But I leave immediately."

His shoulders were straight and his jaw was set. There was nothing Susan could do but step aside as Horse and rider galloped away from the palace.

* * *

The balcony was only fifteen steps long. Susan counted them. Over and over. She knew her pacing was accomplishing nothing, save making her ladies in waiting anxious, though that seemed to be the mood of the entire castle as they worried for their missing king. After Edmund had left, a band of soldiers was quickly appointed and sent off as well. The rest of the day had passed agonizingly slowly, the air thick with tension and whispers alike. Susan hardly slept the night and was up well before the sun rose above the Eastern Sea. She had done her best to carry on as if the day was like any other. Tea was brought to her room and she held the cup in trembling fingers. Breakfast was served out in the gardens but she declined, choosing instead to work through the stack of papers on her desk. But it was no use. Without fail, her mind strayed to Peter. To their argument and her harsh words. To the fact that she hadn't even seen him off. She'd never said goodbye. And if he was dead… She shied away from the thought.

So she paced. Fifteen steps one way and then the other. Below her, the everyday life of a bustling palace carried on, though it was subdued, hushed, uneasy. A familiar figure came into view. Lucy appeared to have the same nervous energy Susan did, for she was rushing from one side of the courtyard to another, asking the lookouts repeatedly for any sign of her brothers. Though the guards may have been tiring under the continuous questioning, Susan counted it a victory that Lucy was there at all. It had been a near thing. As soon as she had finished ministering to Peter's wounded company, she had declared herself a belated member of the rescue party and almost left the castle before Susan was able to reign her in. It took a considerable amount of time before she got her sister to see how the best course of action was to wait at Cair Paravel, so as to ensure Lucy and her brothers wouldn't unknowingly pass by each other out in the woods. For if Peter needed the cordial and Lucy was nowhere to be found… it didn't bear thinking about.

Movement in the sky caught her attention. She looked up to see a small flock of birds wheeling toward the towers of Cair Paravel. Their excited twitters could be heard even from her balcony and Susan scarcely dared to hope. The birds circled the guards on the parapet. Susan raced to the railing and watched with bated breath as the guards ran along the wall. One stopped to blow his trumpet. Susan instantly turned her eyes to the southern road. There. Just coming up over the rise. A Horse, with a figure walking beside it and another slumped over the Horse's back. Susan's heart tripped against her ribs. She gathered up her skirts and raced past her startled ladies in waiting. It was rare indeed for Queen Susan to run through the castle. But this time, she couldn't stop herself. She needed to see her brothers, alive and well. Waiting even one second longer than she had to was intolerable. Through the hallways, down the stairs, across the flagstones, she went. She sprinted past Lucy, who was too shocked at the sight to say anything to her, past the servants, past the gate. She raced across the road, her shoes getting irreparably dirty. Shoes could be replaced. Brothers could not.

As she came closer, Edmund raised his hand in greeting and he must have said something to Philip, for the Horse increased his pace, Edmund steadying the rider as well as he could from his position. Tears pricked Susan's eyes and she was forced to drop her skirt and slow down to wipe them away.

"You found him," she said, smiling and crying at the same time.

Edmund hurried the last few paces to her and put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side for only a brief moment. "I did."

"Thank Aslan!" Susan dabbed at her eyes. "Is he alright?" She made to touch Peter but Philip shifted away from her.

"I think you'd better wait until Lucy's had a chance to give him a drop of cordial," Edmund advised.

Susan gasped. "Is he so gravely wounded?"

He took her hand. "He suffered many injuries but I know all will be well once he's been healed. I wish to spare you the ill sight."

"Yes. Yes, of course," Susan murmured, disappointment, concern, and relief all vying for first place in her heart. "Come, let us bring him to Lucy at once."

It was easier said than done, for as they entered the castle, a mob of well meaning Animals and Beasts swarmed them. Despite their good intentions, the crowd only made things more difficult and it was only be Edmund raising his voice and commanding them to leave the royals alone for a moment that they were able to find a path up to Peter's bed chamber. There, Philip knelt by the bed and Edmund maneuvered Peter into it. Once the high king was settled, the Horse gave them the courtesy of some much desired privacy. While waiting for Lucy to fetch her gifted cordial Susan, in spite of Edmund's warning, stared at Peter. There was more blood than she was expecting. Most of it was old, browned and flaking. It was spilled all down the front of his tunic, making it difficult to discover the source. But what she found the most upsetting was how the left side of his face looked to have been beaten in. His eye and cheek were swollen, violet and olive green bruising painted him garishly, and there were little flaps of skin that had nearly been torn completely off.

A hand gently took her arm and led her away from the bed. Susan swallowed down her nausea. "Who did this to him?"

"The giants."

Finally, Susan was able to tear her gaze away from Peter to look at Edmund. "How did you find him?"

Edmund showed her a humorless, thin lipped smile. "It isn't hard to track giants through the forest. They leave a path of destruction even a blind badger could follow."

"And how-" Her voice failed her and she had to start over. "And how did you rescue him?"

His expression became more dark than Susan had ever seen it. "They left him for dead."

"What?" Susan whispered.

"They beat him senseless. After that, he no longer provided them with amusement so they tossed him to the side of the road and bumbled their way back to the mountains," he said through gritted teeth. It took visible effort for him to calm himself. "Cruel and mighty they might be, but we are lucky they are as stupid as they are tall."

"You call this lucky?" Susan's eyes darted over to Peter.

"It could have been worse," was all Edmund would say, his gaze troubled.

At that moment, the door was thrown open and Lucy bounded into the room. "Praise the Lion! Peter's alright! Oh, Edmund, you did it! Isn't it wonderful, Susan!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious, drawing smiles from her siblings despite the circumstances.

"Now, all that's left is to administer the cordial." Lucy spun around to face the bed and hissed a breath in through her teeth. "Lion's mane, Peter." She uncorked the diamond bottle and leaned over him. "Still, at least they didn't eat you."

"What?!" Susan cried.

Lucy paid her no mind, focused instead on tipping a single drop into Peter's lax lips. Edmund pushed forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Lucy as the magic did its work. Joining her siblings, Susan was just in time to see the now healed Peter give a slight cough and then his eyelids fluttered.

"Peter!" Lucy squealed and threw herself on top of him.

"Oof." Peter dutifully acted his part of hug recipient, sitting up and putting his arms around his little sister.

"I knew you'd be alright!" Lucy beamed once she'd delivered the embrace required by one's brother coming back from the brink of death. "I just knew Aslan was watching over you. I knew Edmund would find you. I would have gone myself but Susan said it would be better if I stayed here."

Susan cleared her throat. "It was the logical choice."

The others chuckled at the familiar line. Lucy began filling Peter in on everything he had missed in the five days since his departure. Susan hung back, watching how, even as Lucy chattered, Peter and Edmund seemed to carry on an entire conversation without words. Apparently having reached a conclusion, Edmund thus interrupted Lucy as politely as one can interrupt another.

"I say, Lucy. Hadn't we better fetch Peter some new clothes? These ones are absolutely filthy."

"Hmm? Oh yes, of course! Don't fret, Peter. I'll finish telling you about Mrs. Beaver's latest knitting when I get back!"

Edmund guided Lucy from the room, glancing back over his shoulder to nod at Peter and then he closed the door behind them. Left alone now, Susan didn't know where to stand, what to do with her hands, where to look. Though the wounds had been healed, the blood on his tunic was a vivid reminder of just how close she had come to losing him.

"I'm sorry-"

"I'm sorry-"

The two stared at each other in surprise for they had spoken in unison.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Susan asked, bewildered.

"You were right," Peter said.

She shook her head. "No. I was wrong. Very wrong. And look what's happened. Those dwarves came into our land with murderous intent and I refused to see it."

"But we couldn't have known that before they actually attacked. Susan, I was wrong to have disregarded your counsel so readily," he admitted. "This particular band of marauders turned out to be evil but what if they hadn't? What if next time I don't stop to consider the alternative? What if I go to war too readily?"

"Hush now." She took a seat on the edge of his bed, turning to face him. "You have a good heart. This is why Aslan appointed you High King."

He looked down, toying with a rip in his jerkin. "I know not how to be worthy of such a title."

"Peter, Aslan chose us. We may never know why. All we can do is seek to rule this kingdom as He would. And if that leads you to the sword then I pray you will always have the courage to wield it."

"And the wisdom to know when to lay it down," Peter added.

Susan smiled. "I would be happy to lend my services as a voice of reason."

"I will be careful to pay you more heed," he promised. "You possess the ability to see an issue from every angle."

Susan met his gaze evenly. "And I will strive to pay you more respect. You are High King over all, myself included."

The surprise on Peter's face gave Susan a twinge of regret. Submission did not come easily to her, a fact which was obviously only too well known to Peter. She may have demonstrated her stubbornness and exerted her strong will on more occasions than she should have for him to be so caught off guard by her stated goal.

"I apologize for questioning your authority in front of the court. It was not my place." Susan lowered her gaze.

Peter nudged her with his foot. "I believe you mean it was not the right place."

She looked at him confused.

"Susan, if ever you have doubts or questions, know that you can always bring them to me. Just maybe not in front of all our subjects?" He ended with a cheeky smirk.

As she rolled her eyes, Edmund and Lucy picked that moment to return, bearing gifts of fresh clothing and freshly baked scones.

"Trust Edmund to think of food when I've nearly been killed," Peter joked.

Edmund shrugged. "It's not my fault Tiggins slaves tirelessly in the kitchens to produce such delicious food. What kind of a king would I be if I let all his hard work go to waste?" He proceeded to stuff an entire pastry in his mouth at once.

Susan laughed along with the rest of them, selecting a scone off the plate for herself.


End file.
